Page 36 of Backlash

“Jeremy,” she fills in the blank. “I’m not. He wasn’t drunk.”

“What are you saying?” There’s a reason I’ve been avoiding her, because somehow, despite everything, we haven’t actually ended things. Sure, it was implied, and, yeah, I’d been the one to walk out on her.

But seeing her now, in a t-shirt that’s two times too big for her, her creamy legs on display, and her attitude turned up to eleven, I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to that.

“Look, I owed you one.” She grabs her jeans and starts to pull them on. “That’s all this is. I should get going.”

“Don’t,” I blurt out. She’s so surprised that she drops her pants, which is better for so many reasons. Standing, a sharp pain pierces my skull, and I grab my forehead.

Adair takes a step closer, remembers she hates me, and stops.

Now that I’m on my feet, I realize that the floor is oddly clear. I look around my dorm room. The empty bottles are gone. There are no dirty clothes on the floor. My books are back on the coffee table.

“Did you clean?” I ask in a confused voice.

“I am capable of cleaning, and I wasn’t about to sit around in your personal garbage dump all night.” She blows a strand of hair out of her face. Probably so she can focus her murderous gaze more intensely on me. “What is wrong with you?”

Where to begin? I have a choice to make. The best thing for both of us is to push her buttons until she’s walks out my door and never looks back. I don’t belong in her world. That’s clearer every second we spend together. I’m not even sure why she bothers if she’s just using me to get back at her father. In the long run, I’ll hurt her, and she’ll wreck me. Why not skip to the shitty part now?

Except that I’m as selfish as she is. I don’t want to save her the pain. I don’t want to save myself the pain. I want her for as long as I can have her.

“I told you I don’t drink.” I try a grin on her. Her face remains stony, but I think I see her eyes soften. “Can I have that coffee now?”

She picks it up and passes it to me. “Ready to dry out?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” I admit. “Look, you don’t have to stick around.”

Please do, though, I add silently.

“I have a little expertise in seeing someone through a hangover,” she says quietly.

“Me, too.”

“You should stop drinking. Please.” The pain in her voice hurts worse than my headache. We’ve danced around the topic of our fathers, but it’s clear to me that Adair knows an alcoholic when she sees one.

“I know. I’m back on the wagon.” I place a hand over my heart. “Promise.”

She shrugs.

“You’ve heard that before, haven’t you?” I ask.

“So many times I’ve lost track,” she says, “so, forgive me if I wait to believe it until I see it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. But I am done. You’ll see. I don’t want to be like my dad.” I wait, giving her a chance to decide how she wants to proceed. I’ve opened the book to my backstory. It’s up to her if she wants to read.

“Your dad promised you to stop drinking, too?”

Decision made. “No. He never bothered with us. Me and my sister,” I clarify. “He didn’t give a shit what two little kids thought. But my mom? Yeah, he promised her a lot. He’d get drunk, tear the place apart or worse, and then the next day, he’d promise to stop drinking. Sometimes, he went as far as to go to an AA meeting. But as soon as she forgave him, he started right back up.”

“Or worse?”

She wants the whole story. I can’t blame her. It’s just that I don’t particularly like to share it. I’ve had to a couple of times—for social workers and judges and lawyers. I take the mug of coffee and go back to the couch. “You sure you want to know?”

Adair bites her lip, tugging on my t-shirt nervously, before finally nodding. She moves closer, staring at the couch for a second before carefully sitting at the other end. Tucking a leg under her, she arranges my shirt to make sure she’s covered.

“The worst times were when he’d beat her.” I pause to take a sip of coffee. I swallow it along with my pride. “Once I got old enough, I’d jump in and pick fights with him, so he’d take it out on me.”

“He hit you?”